


Glow

by TeddyLaCroix (ReadyPlayerZero)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadyPlayerZero/pseuds/TeddyLaCroix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the AvengerKink prompt by <img/> lntora: <i>Tony says "hi" a lot to his beau. Even if they've only been apart long enough for a shower and to get dressed, as soon as Tony sees him again, he always says, "Hi". It takes a few for said beau to translate that as Tony-speak for "I love you."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Habits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miramise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miramise/gifts).



> Meant to be a short drabble/mini-fill/comment-fic, this fic got a little bit (just a little!) out of hand. It is presently not _quite_ finished, as I went away on holiday and then promptly forgot its existence, but it can be read as is. I am posting it here in hopes that having it on AO3 will better remind me to write the last two scenes.
> 
> I apologize in advance for not having a very interesting writing style. I'm really more of a doodler than a writer, so please bear with me!
> 
> I am reviewing each section before I post it to make sure there isn't something really glaringly stupid, but this is otherwise unbeta'd.

Tony Stark had a lot of strange habits. Anybody who talked to him for five minutes could see this, plain as his name plastered on the giant tower over the MetLife building.

He had his thing against being handed things, which was probably made worse by the fact that Pepper (bless her tolerance) had indulged him for _years_. Tony would be the first to admit there was no real reason for this, and even Rhodey backed him on it; he just didn't like it. It had been fine when he was a kid, but sometime during his education at MIT the funny quirk had taken root until it became a full-blown Thing.

He was never less than five minutes late for anything important. Pepper had taken to telling him events began fifteen minutes sooner than they actually did just to get him there on time. (Unfortunately, this only worked twice; Tony cottoned on after that, so her efforts were a bust.) What people didn't seem to realise, though, was that Tony was often the _first_ one there if the appointment was something easy, casual, social, and one-on-one.

He drank his coffee black, which was pretty common knowledge. It was quick, it was dark, it was bitter, it was strong, it was sharp, it was everything that the public thought Tony Stark was like. But at home, when he thought nobody but JARVIS was watching, he would slip three cubes of sugar into his coffee.

He got ridiculous with the red-and-gold sometimes. Pretty much everything on the Iron Man suit was, of course, red and gold, but this extended to anything _about_ the suit as well. He had a specific red pen in gold casing he would use when scribbling down notes the few times he deigned to use paper, he had reprinted S.H.I.E.L.D. forms on a pale yellow paper with dark red ink, and he even changed the colour of the text on the menu bars for suit designs to be alternating red and gold. _But_ he was actually neurotic about colour schemes for any other project as well; they were simply less brightly coloured and talked about, and therefore much, much less apparent.

He talked to his bots like they were children or pets. He placed his coffee mug or whisky glass at precise angles to his body. He monitored the amount of time that passed between Pepper's attempts to get ahold of him to determine how important the call was versus whatever task he was enmeshed in at the time. He complained about how stupid/careless/breakable/oblivious/dirty/messy/loud children were but he adored the fuck out of them whenever one got near him. He never said good morning or hello to JARVIS but he always told him good-night.

And he greeted people a lot. But only certain people, and only in certain ways.

The first time Steve noticed this particular habit was after the Avengers moved into Stark Tower and Pepper visited for the first time. It had confused him, then amused him. He'd written it off as Tony attempting to distract his poor PA- _cum_ -CEO as she desperately tried to make him fulfill his less interesting obligations to Stark Industries in the form of signing papers and attending meetings.

The Pepper-Hi always popped out quick and casual and short, and it was always followed by just a brief moment of stillness from Tony after. It was a stillness that calmed every caffeine-wired nerve in his perpetually buzzing body.

It came up again when Rhodey came to visit, and was a little more neurotic that time. Whereas Pepper appeared so accustomed to Tony that the word "Hi" itself no longer registered in her brain, the lieutenant actually responded to the constant and redundant greetings with exasperated eye-rolls and equally redundant sighs.

For some reason, this always seemed to make Tony ridiculously happy.

The Rhodey-Hi was louder, more direct, and more boisterous than the Pepper-Hi. It straddled that fine line between buddy and bromance and was almost kiddish in its blunt cheer. It was the way a nephew you only saw at Christmas-time but liked to spoil would greet you at the door every year with an enthusiastic hug and an expectant grin, like no matter how many years had gone by he was still five years old. While the Pepper-Hi made Tony still and calm, the Rhodey-Hi made him Crayola-bright and happy.

Two and a half years after meeting Tony, five months after Tony spontaneously kissed him during an episode of C.S.I., four and a half months after they began dating, twelve minutes after the latest fight, and eighteen seconds after Tony woke up in East Harlem after being knocked from the sky by a robo-turkey during the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, Steve heard a new version of Tony's _Hi_. This time, it was directed at himself.

Tony opened his eyes, waited for his vision to focus, stared into Steve's tired, dirty, bruised and bleeding but so very _relieved_ face, smiled nice and slow and without any trace of the battle fatigue he _had_ to be feeling, and let out a tiny, almost _shy_ , "Hi."

For a moment, Steve just stared at him. Tony'd very nearly died, the battle had been far too close a call, and Iron Man was _never_ without some inappropriately flippant or snarky comment after a rough time. Steve wanted to shake him. Steve wanted to ask if he was concussed. Steve wanted to kiss him until they both blacked out from lack of oxygen.

But...

But he thought back to Tony's ignored _Hi_ 's to a frustrated Pepper, and he thought back to Tony's happy _Hi_ 's to an indulgent Rhodey. It was the first time he gave it much real thought, but somehow, he knew that there was something important happening right then.

So he relaxed his shoulders, smiled back down at Tony, and softly replied, "Hi."

Tony lit up like a hundred arc reactors.


	2. Shifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's habits begin to change, just a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . Can you tell I have no idea how to select chapter titles?

Not a lot changed after that. Tony didn't greet him with constant _Hi_ 's like he did Rhodey and Pepper, but Steve didn't think much of it. They actually lived together, after all, so what need did they have for repetitive salutations?

But he did notice some things.

He noticed that Tony seemed to relax around him a little more quickly, and a little more often. Not to say he had been tense before, but—well, it was _Tony_ , the man whose mind went a mile a minute and always kept himself busy on several projects at once. He was the man who would sit down to watch a movie while playing on his cellphone, and by intermission he'd have finished designing upgrades to the quinjet, new arrow-tips for Clint (often ridiculous ones just for fun, but sometimes battle-useful as well), and a better stealth function for the latest Iron Man suit.

These days, Tony was more willing to sink into the couch beside him, settle one hand lightly on his thigh, and watch the movie quietly. For at least ten or fifteen minutes, anyway.

(And yes, intermission. It was an old-fashioned habit the Avengers initially teased Steve for requesting, but ended up making routine since with six people, two pots of coffee and several liters of soda, inevitably half of them needed to go to the bathroom anyway.)

He noticed that Tony watched him more, and smiled when he realised he was caught. Not to say that he didn't watch him before, but—well, it was _Tony_. He watched everyone, a witty retort ever at the ready, as though he thought they'd get one on him if he wasn't the one on guard. To be fair, while he was brilliant, he'd started off a civilian; Natasha and Clint had joined the team as trained spies, Steve as a trained soldier, and Thor as, well, a _god_. The only other member who was not previously combat-trained was Bruce, and he had the Hulk's instincts on guard _for_ him. It made sense—even if it broke Steve's heart a little—that Tony always felt the need to be one step ahead, as if to compensate for some paranoia that mostly existed in his head.

These days, Tony was more willing to focus all of that concentrated obsession on him, and didn't flinch back or turn away or make excuses. He would let Steve smile and quirk an eyebrow at him, and smile and quirk one right back. Sometimes he'd come over for a quick kiss before going back to whatever he was doing, and other times he'd wait for Steve to turn away first before going back to whatever he was doing.

(Steve liked to let the moments linger, savouring them as much as he savoured any other moment with Tony. But he still made sure he turned away first approximately half of the time, not wanting it to turn into some sort of challenge. Tony had a habit— _yes, another habit_ —of turning everything into a challenge.)

He noticed that Tony answered his calls the first time now. Not to say that he had been unresponsive before, but—well, it was _Tony_. He still counted the seconds and minutes between Pepper's calls, and Fury's calls, and Natasha's calls. But for Steve, he now picked up without waiting for him to hang up and call back again. The first time Tony'd answered on the first call, it had startled Steve so much that he'd compulsively asked, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"—which had, of course, only served to confuse Tony since, hey, wasn't _Steve_ the one who'd just been calling _him_? Fortunately, Steve's brain had caught up to his instincts before he could do something stupid like point out Tony's unusual promptness (which would inevitably send him into a hasty emotional retreat), so he'd made up something about Tony's voice seeming tired and they'd moved on.

These days, Tony was more willing to pick up after just one ring, and actually apologised if he missed the first call altogether. It never ceased to make Steve ridiculously happy, even if his happy reaction often earned him the teasing of anybody else around him at the time.

(Clint called it his Puppy Mode, Bruce would smile crookedly and make quiet cooing noises, and Thor would celebrate— _loudly_ —the admirable displays of their boundless affections for one another. Natasha would simply arch an eyebrow at him and smirk silently, but it was Natasha, so that somehow made him more embarrassed and flustered than anything any of the others said or did.)


	3. Reciprocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time, it's Steve's turn.

The next time it happened was after they were apart for almost a month. Steve and Natasha were on a mission in Romania and Tony and Bruce were checking out some purported weapon designs at a research lab in Brazil. Between their different timezones, the poor reception in their particular area of Romania, and the fact that both jobs went sour during the last week and turned into several days of paranoid quiet interspersed with violent fighting frenzies, they had no way of getting in touch with each other until they were finally both home.

Tony was nursing a large cup of coffee at the bar counter when Steve got in. Natasha had gone straight to her floor to shower and the rest of the penthouse was dead silent, so it was clear they were alone.

Steve's relief at finally seeing Tony again was crippling, but that wasn't the only thing that kept him from rushing in and sweeping his boyfriend into a kiss. There was the exhaustion, but it was nothing he couldn't manage. He had a nasty gash on his left calf, but it was healing. Really, he'd _expected_ to get home, pounce on Tony, and hide away in their bedroom for the next week to sleep off the mission.

But now that he was here, he couldn't move.

He did actually know what the problem was, though. It was fear. Not the kind of fear that came from putting your life on the line to fight an enemy—he could _handle_ that. It was the kind of fear that came from encountering an important moment in an important relationship for the first time—and God knew he didn't have much experience with relationships to begin with. It was a moment he'd spent the first half of the month looking forward to, and the last half of the month worrying over.

It was trepidation that the month apart might have done them harm.

He knew there were lots of couples who couldn't handle separation, and a month was no short span of time. He and Tony hadn't spent this much time apart since the Avengers came to live in the tower in the first place. Even before they were a couple they were bumping into each other constantly, chatting regularly, working together, fighting together.

There was no doubt in Steve's mind that he was willing to work for this relationship. If the time apart made them take two steps back to every step forward, he would accept it, deal with it, and try to pull them forward again. But that certainty didn't mean he _wanted_ there to be distance, awkwardness, or tension. Who would?

The quiet grew to an uncomfortable point. Tony seemed equally at a loss. Steve opened his mouth to say something before shutting it again. Tony straightened a little in his seat, then slumped back down.

Steve felt tired. Worried. Anxious.

Tony looked confused. Blank. Nervous.

Tony's hands twitched hard enough to send some coffee splashing out of the mug. He didn't seem to notice.

They stared at each other for a moment, both weary beyond belief, letting their obvious exhaustion be the cover for their silence. Then, a lightbulb went off in Steve's head.

_Oh. Duh._

This time Steve was the one to offer a tiny, almost _shy_ , "Hi."

A rapid rush of various fleeting emotions swept through Tony's face before he settled on a small smile. "Hi."

Steve lit up.

After that, everything was fine. Steve stood up straight and tall from where he'd slumped against the wall, walked in, and gave Tony a kiss that left them both red-faced and breathless and grinning giddily. He then wound himself tightly around Tony's back and rested his cheek against his shoulder, and Tony picked up his mug again to take a sip.

They stayed like that for several minutes, basking in the comfortable reassurances that they were safe, and home, and happy.


	4. Routine

After that, it happened all the time.

\--

"Hi."

"Good morning."

"..."

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Pancakes?"

"Mm, coffee first."

"Go ahead and shower. I'll start breakfast."

\--

"Hi."

"Hi. Ugh, why are we awake? Coffee. Oh my god, coffee. Gimme, gimme."

Snort. "Two or three pancakes?"

"Three. Ahhh, coffee..."

\--

"Hi."

"Hi, Tony. Want to take a break?"

"Nope, I'm good. Maybe in an hour? We can go get some phở."

"Get what?"

"Phở! Vietnamese noodles?"

"Uh..."

"Oh my god, you haven't had phở. Okay, nevermind, break _now_. Let's go."

\--

"That was _amazing_."

"Yeah, see? _Told_ you. I have the best tastes."

"When you bother to remember to eat."

"Touché. But who said I was just talking about food?" Wink.

" _Tony_!"

"Heh."

Comfortable silence.

"Hi, Steve."

"Hi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have a derpy picture of Tony and Steve having phở: [To Tumblr!](http://teddyvengers.tumblr.com/post/52611187118/steves-first-pho)
> 
> Obviously, this section was written when I was hungry.


	5. Clint Asks

It took a while for (most of) the team to notice, largely because their schedules were all so different that they didn't have much time together.

Nine months after they began dating, four and a half months after the Thanksgiving fight, two months after getting back from Romania, the five human members of the team (Thor was in Asgard) were gathered together to watch the 2009 _Sherlock Holmes_. Breaking for intermission, everyone split up for bathroom/drinks/food/a sweater and reconvened a little later.

Tony dropped down beside Steve and sank against his side. "Hi."

"Hi," Steve returned instantly, pulling his arm out from between them to wind it around Tony's shoulder. It was a gesture Tony had balked at at the start of their relationship, but now gladly welcomed - not only because it was warm and nice, but because trying to cuddle with a thickly muscled arm squished between them was just not the least bit comfortable.

"Dude, the fuck?" Clint asked, staring at them. Steve stared curiously back. "It's been like ten minutes."

"Leave them alone," Natasha replied.

"No, seriously—"

"Shut up, Barton."

"But—"

"What's going on?" Bruce asked as he re-entered, slipping his glasses back on after wiping the lenses.

"I have no idea," Tony admitted, also staring at Clint now.

Clint pointed accusingly at the couple on the couch. "The first time or two I thought it was, I don't know, some inside joke, but now it's kind of weird. You two _just_ saw each other. What's with the hellos?"

"The what?" Steve asked.

"Nobody said hello," Tony added, rolling his eyes.

"Hello, hi, whatever," Clint corrected, mimicking Tony's eye-roll as Bruce peered at them thoughtfully. "Same difference."

"Oh." Steve nodded in understanding, then shook his head. "No. Not really the same at all."

Clint blinked owlishly at him. He shrugged back and tugged Tony closer to kiss his temple. Tony smiled, but didn't bother to clarify further. Clint didn't really need to know.


	6. Thor Asks

Thor found out two weeks later. In his defense, he didn't exactly live on the planet.

Coulson, of course, knew all along.

"MY FRIENDS," he roared as he dropped through the hole in the ceiling of Grand Central Terminal and landed in the debris beside them. "WHAT IS THIS NEW RITUAL WE HAVE ESPOUSED?"

"What ritual?" Steve asked breathlessly, cradled against Iron Man's chest with an arm around his cracked ribs.

"Your 'hi' thing," Bruce offered from about five yards away, holding up his shredded pants in one hand as the green faded from his skin. "Open comm. You were sort of broadcasting."

" _Still are broadcasting, thank you,_ " Coulson's voice added through their earpieces. " _Pray tell_ , is _it a ritual? Judging by the lack of any discernible sense to the habit, I assumed it was Stark being Stark and Cap indulging him._ "

With the mask up, Tony's indignant expression was readily visible. "Wow, what? Lack of sense? And why am I the culprit? And what do you all even _care_?"

" _I don't_ ," Natasha's voice joined them. " _Barton's just nosy._ "

"I heard that," Clint announced as he dropped down from Thor's ceiling hole, albeit without cracking the floor upon his landing as the thunder god had.

"HI!" Thor greeted him in a bellow.

Clint balked. "The fuck? No, don't you start, too! We do not have that kind of relationship!"

"IT IS INAPPROPRIATE FOR TEAMMATES TO GREET EACH OTHER?"

"The behaviour _does_ stand out," Bruce informed Tony as Clint attempted to explain to Thor that the Steve-Hi and Tony-Hi were not the same as a _Hey, buddy!_ -Hi. "At first. From an outsider's perspective. There are several running theories on why you guys do it, and a parallel bet about what it means."

"Really?" Tony drawled. "Is that really what superheroes do all day? Make bets on each other?"

" _And S.H.I.E.L.D. agents_ ," Coulson admitted. " _The most prevalent theory thus far is that losing everybody he loves has left the Captain wary of your permanence, so it's a routine reminder of your presence to ward off panic attacks._ "

"What?" Steve gaped as he sat up, wincing as he did. Tony began laughing—until Coulson continued.

" _The second popular theory is that Stark turned himself into a computer, and that particular set of phonemes in the good Captain's voice matches the key to keep a world-ending virus at bay._ "

"WHAT?!" Tony squawked.

"To be fair," Bruce chipped in, "that theory is only second because of the aforementioned inability to detect a noticeable patterns to your greetings."

" _Fury's convinced that you're doing it just to drive him crazy,_ " Natasha added, " _but the primary argument is you—'you' as in Tony—do that naturally, so it doesn't count. Hill made a thorough diagram of your most notable offenses last month, and the patterns didn't match._ "

" _It was a very nice diagram,_ " Coulson confirmed approvingly.

"And people think _I_ don't have a life," Steve sighed.


	7. Rhodey Sees

Col. James Rhodes was next. In his defense, he was pretty much married to the military.

He waited for Tony to walk out of the room to fetch the scotch before turning to Steve with one eyebrow raised. "Huh."

On the couch, Steve blinked at him curiously. He liked Rhodey; he really, really did. He hadn't, however, had much of a chance to get to know the man, so he wasn't familiar enough with his expressions and thought patterns to figure out what on earth might've caught his attention in the thirty seconds since he first entered the room. "Yes?"

Relaxing, Rhodey smiled. "No, nothing, just—well, not nothing. It's just been a long time since Tony incorporated someone new into his family."

Steve looked around at the Tower where he and all of the rest of the Avengers lived, and had been living for several years now.

Chuckling quiet, Rhodey shook his head. "No, I know you're all like family now. It's great; I'm really happy for everyone. I just mean—well. The last time he looked— _really_ looked—at someone and let down his guard like that was Pepper. And bless her, she's pretty much a perfect human being, but she never did fit into the craziness quite the way you and I do. Probably why they didn't last as more than friends."

The last Steve had checked his relationship with Tony was still mostly private. (The Avengers lived with them, so they didn't count; Coulson's S.H.I.E.L.D. team consisted of top-notch spies who shared the comms with them during battles, so they didn't count, either.) He was certain they hadn't done anything particularly couple-y in the short span of Rhodey's presence tonight, either. The knowing way Rhodey looked at him now, though, indicated that there had clearly been a dead giveaway.

Knowing when to cut his losses, Steve gave him a sheepish grin. "May I ask what gave us away, sir?"

Rhodey waved off the sir as he always did. He opened his mouth to reply—

—and Tony re-entered the room like a carnival coming to town, the calm quiet immediately shattered into energy and noise and loud steps and three glasses of ice and a sloshing, uncapped bottle of Glenfiddich 15 year. "Hey, now! Don't you two go getting cozy without me," he protested as he pushed one of the glasses at Rhodey and expertly poured him some scotch. "Hi. _Stranger_ ," he greeted again accusingly. "You—you are not leaving until we finish off this bottle tonight, you hear me? No, no, stop, no excuses, I don't care what big fancy meeting you've got tomorrow. _The. Bottle_. Capiche?"

Tony waited for Rhodey's indulgent nod before turning away. Moving over to Steve's couch, he leaned over the back of it to hand Steve another of the glasses. Steve took it with thanks, then paused. Tony remained where he stood, smiling down at him in a way that couldn't quite be called sappy, but radiated warmth. "Hi," the frenetic genius murmured with a quiet calm that belied his buzzing energy moments before.

Steve smiled back. "Hi."

Even now, even after a year together, even already humming with comfortable happiness, Tony lit up. He drew away to go to the armchair and take his own seat.

As he turned, Steve caught the look Rhodey was giving them.

The _knowing_ look.

Oh.

Because while Tony's greeting to Rhodey had been the verbal equivalent of bullying somebody into a corner with exuberance and the one to Steve was the equivalent of being wrapped up in a fleece blanket, they still meant the same thing.

Tony began speaking, and both men turned their attention to him. Just before they did, however, Rhodey lifted his glass in a small, silent toast to Steve, and with a broad grin, Steve returned it.

Message received. They were family now, too.


End file.
